


Deep Cuts

by SML8180



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Blood, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, One Shot, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 22:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18019253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SML8180/pseuds/SML8180
Summary: After exposing his brother's sins, it's time for John's vices to be exposed to the world.Follow-up to Sins Exposed; reading SE highly encouraged, but not required





	Deep Cuts

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a follow-up/continuation of Sins Exposed. Though I encourage you to read SE before this, you can still get on without having done so.

The cuts in Joseph’s flesh were slowly starting to heal. The first few days following his sins being exposed and etched into his skin had brought a fair amount of pain. His left arm and torso ached with every move he made, and they stung when his shirts would rub against them. The skin surrounding each of the wounds had turned an angry red for the first day, irritated and welting. By the end of the third or fourth day, they had simply scabbed over, though too much activity would cause them to bleed again. As a result, Joseph wore dark, loose-fitting shirts, mostly borrowed from Jacob. It made him thankful that his brother, though a tad shorter than himself, had a more muscular build, and so his shirts fit for the most part. After about a week went by, the pain was simply a dull ache that lingered at the sites of the injuries. It would take more time for the wounds to heal to where they were simply scars, but Joseph could live with that. For now, he had something else to tend to.

Joseph found his brother where he almost always was after the day ended. The youngest Seed was sitting in a comfortable armchair in the room he’d taken as his study, simply reading some book he’d read who knows how many times. John looked up as he heard his brother’s steps against the wood floor, finding the taller man leaning against the door-frame. The man set his book aside, looking to his older brother silently for a moment before he stood.

“Joseph,” he addressed, seeming calm. “Is there something you need?” He stepped towards his desk, shuffling through a few papers, neatening them up absently as he tried to make himself look busy. Unlike Jacob, John had a healthy fear of their brother. How could he not? The man was intense to say the least, and often did anything he needed to make a point.

“I’m sure you remember what I said to you, John,” was Joseph’s response. His voice was flat and almost dead, as it sometimes was. This was something John had noted when they had first met after years of separation. The younger Seed was always reminded of days in court, when the opposition would be speaking in the same tone, making it almost impossible to tell where their argument would go, or what they were thinking.

“I do,” came John’s confirmation. How could he forget? “I suppose you’re here to expose my sins to the world?”

“You’ve always been smart, my brother,” the Father complimented. “It’s time you expose your sins as I’ve exposed mine.”

John said nothing for a moment, merely taking a breath as he pulled out the chair from his desk, taking a seat. Joseph would insist until he agreed, and so he merely nodded, beginning to unbutton his silk shirt as his brother stepped closer. The younger brother watched as Joseph brought out a pocket knife and extended the blade from the handle. The dim light glinted off the sharp blade as Joseph moved closer. The blade had likely just been sharpened, if John had to guess. Jacob always made sure their blades were sharpened to his own satisfaction. Nothing short of perfect would do.

“Sloth,” was the first word to break the silence between Joseph and John. He knew his sin; he’d etched it into the handle of his knife when he’d gotten it so that he wouldn’t forget. Even before then, the word was pressed into the cover of a leather-bound journal he had gotten ages ago.

The Father said nothing at this, simply giving a nod as he made sure John’s shirt was out of his way. He pressed the flat edge of the blade to his brother’s skin, looking up at the man’s face. The Baptist simply took a breath at feeling the cool metal against his chest, and he held his brother’s gaze. He was as ready as he would ever be for this. There was no use in putting it off. Joseph watched his brother for a few seconds longer, before turning the blade to its edge and making the first cut to form the S. As the skin was broken and the blade cut into his chest, the youngest Seed let out a hiss.

“The first cut is always the deepest, brother,” were Joseph’s only words before he continued. The elder Seed braced a hand on John’s shoulder, keeping him still against the chair back, despite the ache from his own healing wounds. Each cut into his brother’s chest drew a reaction; a hiss, or groan as he was marked with his sin. The blood ran down his chest, appearing dark against his relatively fair skin.

When the job was done, Joseph stood, his hand still on John’s shoulder. The result wasn’t as clean as the words the Baptist had carved into his older brother, to say the least. The edges of the letters were a bit jagged, the lines not as consistent as John’s, nor as straight. What stood out most to Joseph, though, was a slip-up he’d made; at one of his brother’s reactions, his hand had slipped, leaving a long cut that ended up splitting the word from end to end. It certainly wasn’t the work of a skilled hand, and John would likely mention it once he wasn’t in so much pain. From now on, Joseph would leave anything of this nature to the brother who knew what he was doing, he was sure of that.

“You did well, John,” he praised quietly. He gave his brother’s shoulder a squeeze, before stepping back. “Your dedication is clear, but you still have much to learn; as we all do.”

John simply nodded, taking out a clean cloth to wipe away what blood he could. He had nothing to say at that moment that his brother didn’t already know. Joseph watched his brother for a moment longer before leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind him. The Father cared for his brothers, he really did, he just had trouble showing it. It was simply another thing he needed to work on. For now, though, he and his brothers had other things to worry about.


End file.
